


Astral Analogy

by XiaoHu



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, M/M, Making Out, Neck Kissing, Pillow Fights, Pining, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-01 19:56:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15150683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XiaoHu/pseuds/XiaoHu
Summary: They say once you accept ideas, they stop haunting you.But Mark can’t stop thinking about how the sun seems to rotate around Haechan.How everything the boy feels, the giant star perched above them (the sun) complies.





	1. 1/4

**Author's Note:**

> Mark scoffs, sighs and think logically and analytically around Haechan. Those two thinking process oppose, so he ends up losing his breath every time.
> 
> Disclaimer:  
> \- Purely fictional, this may be very out of character, and has nothing to with their personal life  
> \- English is not my first language so even though I tried to publish something decent, there may be some errors... Sorry!!

They say once you accept ideas, they stop haunting you.  
But Mark can’t seem to stop thinking about how the sun seems to rotate around Haechan, and how everything he feels, the giant star perched above them complies.

___

Mark scoffs, sighs and think logically and analogically too much around Haechan. Those two thinking process oppose, so he ends up losing his breath every time.

___

Haechan is just like that. A programmed clock, sleeping as soon as the sun goes down. Mark sees his eyes dropping automatically by almost a cm, and sometimes doesn’t even need to look outside to see the sun setting.

That is why he hates having him over for the night. They have fun, and then they have so much fun, and then some more until Haechan’s voice frequency lowers down and, it’s not that Mark is the type to whine when it’s time to end the fun (like children do, or like Haechan does), but it’s rather the silence slipping in along with some loneliness that he dreads. A night after some fun is always darker, and every time it’s because of Haechan.

“Mark, are you alright?” Voice full of concern and seriously low, Haechan frowns his eyebrows at him.

As a reply, Mark stutters out some confusion. “What, why? No.” He waits a moment, wondering if something is not alright, “I’m good”

The younger, not convinced, pull his legs out from under him to push them against himself, and shuffles on the floor pushing some pillows aside, closer against him. Finally, head turned towards him and perching forwards, he stare into his eyes.

“In 6 month it’ll be officially 6 years that we’re Best Friend Forever,” Mark sighs. He knows what this is about. “You can tell me anything.”

He lets Haechan finish and looks at him. “It’s just a game, Haechan. Nothing scandalous,” He continues doing what he was before his best friend bothered him, which was playing a game. Stares at the screen, “It’s just losing.”

“Three times in a row.” Haechan continues, tries to persuade Mark by raising his eyebrows. “And against me,” he adds, hand reaching his chin, as if he was contemplating. Then a smile tugs the corner of his lips upwards, slowly. “And at 19.”

Marks do feel like he scoffed too many times this evening, but it’s been settled that it comes with Haechans presence. So he scoffs at his friend’s dramatic pose, “Well, you’re the one that made a fort out of my pillows at 18.”

Haechan slide his head from left to right to left. Marks thinks he heard him clicking his tongue, and he can’t believe the younger has the audacity. Of course he has, he always had. But still.

“I can’t believe you get to be so bad at games, while i’m the one sneaking into your house to play.” The younger exclaims.

Mark just laughs at him, An absent smile sitting on his lips, he just looks at Haechan, tinted orange by the outside sky. The shadow induced by the light strongly cutting his jaw. They go on in their stupid argument, sitting between window and tv screen, and in the middle of a fort, under a thin plaid hanging above their heads, the video game long forgotten.

“Mark.”

It’s here, the dragged voice Marks dreads every evening. If it hadn’t a hint of a seriousness Mark is a little concerned about, He would have just ignored it.  
His head turn to the younger, now sprawled on a pillow, gamepad against his face. Mark puts it aside to reveal Haechan’s left eye, squished under his cheek.

“Yes?”

“Mark, I’m hungry.” he paralleled a circular movement around his tummy.

The older obeys, standing up, and hitting his head against the soft cloth above them. “Let’s make something then.”

“No,” he drags a whine, “my body is not responding.”

He nuzzles into the pillow, and Marks carefully catches every strand of hair falling on his forehead with his eyes.

Carefully again, Mark is back to sitting down, softly asking, “Your not gonna fall asleep are you?”

With a swipe of his hand, he tugs aside Haechan’s fringe, finger lacing each strand, and, eyes landing on his rosy cheeks, he can’t help but feel lazy too. Under the fort’s plaid roof, the colors the sun spilled now where between pink and blue, and just peach enough to make Mark forget a moment that his sleepy friend hasn’t replied to him yet.

So he goes on to put his hand under the latter’s ticklish spot.

“You can’t leave me to clean up this mess of a fort by myself” he says as he sense a devilish smile on his own face.

“Ahhh! That tickles!”

“Of course it does!” He pushes the hands Haechan raised to protest onto the pillow he’s laying on.

Haechan lets out a full hearted laugh, showing his full range of front teeth, and just as his voice hits the walls, the lightning in the room goes up, unshading his cleared up face and it’s obvious that a cloud has moved aside from the sun, enlightening the room with a burst of light. The timing takes Mark by surprise, but he doesn’t have time to contemplate anything beautiful as his nemesis clashes a pillow against his face, sending him on the carpeted floor.

Haechan falls on him with a laugh and they tackle for dominance before pausing suddenly, breath intervened. Mark doesn’t know what Haechan is thinking about, but their face’s proximity makes him gulp, and the other’s hand is resting on his stomach, revealed by his shirt that lifted up during their short, childish fight. The lightning is going back down, sun spilling its last energy in a low color.

Marks ignore how his owns eyes glance down on the younger’s lips, and pins his hand and knee on each of the other’s side, and careful not to give the sun boy any room to fly away. Commands,

“Say sorry!”

“For what!”

“For saying I’m a loser for losing!” mark quotes with the exact words. the other  has become a piano under his tickling fingers.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry please stop!” He laughs with a plead in between his breathes that make Mark finally stops, laughing and heavily breathing at the same time.

  
“I like you like this better.” Under him, illuminated by dying lights, in this personal and close, small, nostalgic fort.

Haechan waves his hands with a whine, half hearted attempt to hit away the older’s, still hovering over his ticklish, plinked spot. “Stop it.”

The sun goes down, and a shadow progress over from Haechan up to half his face.

Mark is breathless.

As if the sun is putting his friend to sleep himself before dying out, his eyes’ shutters close down with the progress of Mark’s shadow over his delicate face. It stops under his eyelashes, but Mark’s gazes continues and jump from one mole to the other to subtly slide onto his lips and between dark constellations on sunshine skin, he loses his breath, yet again.

Then, goes forward -he doesn't know why, maybe just for the sake of feeling Haechan’s breath on him- and the sleeping boy’s breath feels drunken, heavy and warm against his lips going into his lungs with a burning taste.This steady, slow breathing, drunken, but dangerously drunk, because as it has made his own heavy against his chest. Dangerously cutting his brain wires, screwing up hiss autopilot: he had moved further forward without knowing it, and his body or mind or brain, something between those three, doesn’t respond when his rationality tells him to move backward. Lost connection, He’s just falling farther, lost in cosmos.

To make his heart kickstart and jump into his ribcage, Haechan just hums. Just sleeping, only dreaming, and Mark falls at his side with guilt colored cheeks and decides to decline into sleep looking at the mole on his sun kissed friend’s neck.

He carefully settle his hand on his chest, now both moving in unison at the rhythm of his breathing, slowly, up and down. Associating it to the sound of waves, and aligning his own breathing as a reverberation to it, then slowly drifting to sleep with the image of sand between toes, intertwined hands and tangled fingers, outshining laughs, salty breeze and ice cream lips.

Summer is coming.


	2. 2/4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark has just woken up, Heachan is not buttoning his shirt soon, and the morning feels oddly different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the chapters are all already written down, ill post them all by tomorrow i hope! Once the four are posted, i'll compile them into one, so this fic wont be chaptered anymore!
> 
> again, my English is lacking, so there may be a lot of error, so Don't hesitate to point them out

When he wakes up, the pillow fort had lost all its magic. It feels messy, fake and out of place. Almost like a drunken confession, it feels real, but not right. Maybe because pillow forts are not for the mornings.

Or it’s just that everything irritates Mark in the morning. Then maybe it’s just that Mark is not for the mornings.

Maybe it’s because from every inch of his conscience to every inch of his body, the slumber he’s waking from has taken all energy out of him. Everything feels like those old heavy computer, turning on slowly and loudly.

What he hates the most is his foggy memory, always bothering him with unclear dreams, fragmented when he’s lucky, but most of the time, he can’t recall them at all.

All the above has him in a state of sensibility, where even the morning sun, shy and subtle, is too bright for Mark not to feel irritated.

In the morning, Haechan wakes up the earliest, and even when he’s being exempted morning class for whatever reason, he still wakes up before Mark does, and just like the sun is in the morning, shy and subtle, Haechan is softly complying with Mark’s moody, somnambulant wake time.

If they’re opposite when the evening come about, they’re opposite again in the morning.

Mark doesn’t understand how the other wakes up so early, without an alarm, and still perfects that smile and lazily drags his slippers but makes warm and shiny breakfast. How does he do everything without complaining and how does he tie his school’s tie without messing up.

It’s only his second try when Mark gives up and goes in to the kitchen to silence his loud stomach, eyelids drooping with sleep.

Haechan is already here, of course.

Mark frowns at him.

“What.” Heachan says from over the stove, sparing him half a glance.

“You messed up the buttons of your shirt.”

Heachan looks down above his tummy and see that he forgot to do his middle button, and miss tied the rest as a consequence. Putting the fork aside, just start untying his shirt, in front of a cooking sunny side egg. Unbothered.

“They’re burning.” Mark hums into his milk about the crying egg, hissing against the hot stove. And he messed up again because he was supposed to put the cereal first.

With a small surprised sound, Heachan takes a plate and adds some salt to the eggs, turn off the stove, and put the napkins on the tables, all that with an open shirt and a song humming on his lips. He never wears a t-shirt underneath, or anything, and Mark feel his once leaden eyelid finally waking up.

As he slides next to him, a chair between them, Mark looks up when Haechan asks him a question, nudging his cereal bowl with a plate with warm egg atop, made how Mark likes it everyday: scrambled.

“What?” ask his friend to repeat, eyes going back and forth between the exposed line of his chest and stomach and back up to this face, colored in a flushed morning dew.

“Did you finish your study planning?” He cuts the eggs, too occupied with feeding himself to care about buttoning his white uniform shirt.

Mark advert his eyes from the display of skin in front of him. “Just a little--In a few days I’ll be, uh, done.” He imagines it as emitting radiation, but good and sunny one, pleasing buzz. That’s why he can’t concentrate on his too milky corn flakes.

“After then, I’ll ask my parents about the summer trip.”

Haechan smiles. In the morning, just like the sun, he is subtle and not harsh at all, a contrast comparing him to the rest of the day.

“I’m sorry if I’m pressuring you.” Softly, no harsh corners. “I just want us to have fun when it’s possible”, he says as he push open the refrigerator, eyeing a half full bottle juice.

Mark comes up to the counter to take more cereal, now that the milk level has lowered, he can adjust the ratio to a perfect one.

He feels the younger’s eyes on him, “Look at that tie,” he mocks, and Mark look down to a very poorly made, miserable, tie hanging around his neck, that he had abandoned earlier.

When he looks back up Haechan is closer and if it wasn’t for his eyelashes being so discernable, the suntanned skin would be too warm to bear.

When he brings his hands to his collar, Mark is still observing his eyelashes, and his face is softened with translucence. “We’re going to be late because of you.” yet without any hint of accusation, his voice vibrate against the laters, honey dripping. Mark realise that every start of the day, Haechan feel new, out of this world. He feels too good to be true and fragile like a dream. Blinding and almost ephemeral, as if he was an allegory.

He waits the later to finish tying it before trying to fight back, “Aren’t you gonna button up that shirt?” He raise his eyebrow at Haechan who throws an unbothered glance at his nude chest.

“You do it for me since I made your tie.”, shrugs.

After a pause Mark just agrees.

“Okay.” But he goes on to put his cold hands on to his chest, feeling the warmth of his friend, who hisses in response.

“You’re cold!” Mark doesn’t let him protest, Haechan weakly tries to strangle him with both his hands, end up pushing Mark’s tie downwards and bumping their head where they meet.

Not leaving his friend alone yet, Mark push his body closer, and curse the laters exposed long patch of skin because it has a whole another effect on his clothed body. Only a layer of shirt separating their bodies makes his mind flood with thoughts, too many to discern.

He whispers, after pushing him against the fridge, by his ear, “You’ll regret secretly copying my homework this morning”

Mark watches triumphantly the others eye widening.

“How did you kno—“

He made it, he made Haechan purse his lips the way it does when he’s confused and shocked, and it’s amazing how his face has guilt splattered all over it.

Mark is addicted to this, and his playful hand find themself all over the exposed skin again, and he expand them to his chest. Put his cold hands all over the exposed skin, and expand it to his chest.

The victim cries, tries to fight back but end up just burying his head the other’s clothed shoulder. Mark is fully taking advantage of Haechan’s slow reaction and find himself the one enjoying the morning when he hears the other wince when his bare back clashes against the cold fridge, sending a magnet down to the floor.

Mark doesn’t stop, continues and continues, possessed by whatever childish motivation. He doesn’t even when he sees the smooth surface of the younger's back, lively tan, leaning against him, and even when he feels the other’s hot breath slipping through his uniform shirt to his shoulder. Mark enjoys it, even if usually, at those early hours, Mark is sleepy, whiny and hate skinship the most, and it surprise him. It seems to be the same for Haechan, who moans, forehead still clashed against his shoulder. “Where’s the touchy Mark?”

Mark grins, he can clearly feel the other smiling. “Nothing can save you right now,” slipping his left hand into his armpit, tickling him again.

Their laugh come to an abrupt stop when an alarm goes off, and Mark curses, and Haechan stands still with his shirt sleeped down all the way his elbow and wrist as he whispers,

“Told you.”

They send each other dumbfounded but alarmed looks: if they don’t take hastily their bags and run for it, Haechan buttoning his shirt only after putting his blazer over it, they’re gonna miss their bus, then their first period.

Haechan is continuously cursing under his breath, and Mark is continuously hoping he doesn’t have red colored cheeks and ears, because while Heachan has a plausible reason to (fighting back and being pushed against cold metal) Mark has none.

For seeing Haechan as the sun’s twin, Mark do pin him and get a little too close to him, like an adventurous astronaut addicted to danger.

But he loves waking up to dreams of Haechan as an astral being, because that’s the only time he remembers his dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who left kudos! If anyone want me to write anything specific, go spam me on twitter : @xiaohu201 !! or just tell me in the comments, I'll try to write it you know!


	3. 3/4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sun is at noon. Haechan steals Mark's chocolate bun, starting a police chase in the school's corridors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bear with my unconsistant writting!

“Chenle, are you sure we had to find x with the second method and not the first?” Jisung says, not looking up from his hollowed stare at his table. Chenle doesn’t bother replying, because he had done it four times already, and continues to eat his crackers, giving one to his friend. Jisung has a hard time getting over failed math tests, but only when he had studied for it. He still eats the cracker, eyes not leaving the paper.

“Mark hyung,” Jeno tugs at his uniform sleeve. “Do you think you can lend me your chemistry notebook?” eye smile and witty mouth, mark blink at his sudden interest in anything related to school. Jaemin and renjun are surprisingly unmoved. “I wanna have an idea what type of horror we’ll have to face next year.” at that, maybe he heard renjun snort.

Mark doesn’t want to look for seriousness in his eyes, that would be rude and everyone already thinks Jeno is an idiot, he doesn’t want to join in the martyrisation of the poor boy. So he blindly believes him, sets aside any feeling of wariness “Why, yes, of course.” and turns to look for his note book in his bag.

When he shift backup, Chenle is hiding in his own arms against the table. He’s not the type to take a nap after eating. It’s only when he hands the book to jeno that he understand something is off. “Thank you hyung,” he gives it back as soon as he took it, barely running through half of half the pages.

“You read it backward.” Mark frown, an unsure smile on. He looks to the side. Chenle is trembling. Jaemin has turned his head opposite of him, hiding his expression. Haechan is nowhere to be seen.

“And where’s my chocolate bun?” standing up as soon as everything click together at the end of the domino of thought. “Where is Haechan, i’m gonna kill him.” Mark walk hastily towards the door, looking for an orange head, chenle is laughing or crying or something between those two, jeno high fived jisung and mark turn to them to assure that he’ll kill them too. He should have known better than to Believe that Haechan’s partner in crime would be more honest than him.

When he runs to the corridor, he sees a flock of orange hair hiding at the turn, hastily disappearing. Running to the spot, a door had just closed with a fast thud.

“Haechan! Give me my chocolate bun! You just ate yours!” he beats the door, hearing the other dragging a smug ‘no’, followed by a very childish, singing laugh.

Mark looks around and a smile find his way as he find another door leading to the same classroom. He hopes it’s not locked and that Haechan is unaware of it.

Gets inside the room, without a sound. Haechan is laughing at the door, and start unwrapping after tending an ear to see if mark is still at the other side.

Step by step so careful, almost without a sound, Mark leaps at his prey’s back with a loud laugh,“I’m not giving up so easily” he says as he feels like a winner when Haechan lets out an odd shriek but doesnt let a second fly before he tackles the other, hand fighting for the sweet treat.

When he finally wins the confrontation, they finally look into each other’s eyes, and Mark’s breath gently swish haechan’s hair aside. He stutters, moving over.

“Don’t act so innocent, as if you hadn’t me pinned underneath you last night.”  
Mark almost hit himself or haechan, his eyes shot up so strongly upwards.

“Haechan... this sounds so wrong!”

“But that’s true... and you even almost ki—“ Mark put a hand on his mouth. Shutting it successfully. He absolutely did not try to kiss him last night, even if it awfully seemed like it.

“That is not true! Shut up you’re too loud!”

“Okay okay we're alone anyways, let's just share this.” Haechan sits down at the closest table. “It’s the only room that’s not too hot.”

“We could sit outside, the wind is good today.” Mark follows up.

“No, lets just sit here,” opens a window, the curtains dancing against him as soon as the wind enters the room. “And get some sun.”

Mark hum in agreement sits next to his friend, just the wrapped desert separating them.

“The weather really is good today. Not too hot,” a breeze caress his cheek, swiping a strand out of the way, “and nicely breezy”

Haechan laughs “nicely breezy” he repeats under his breath with a little hint of mock. He agrees, “Yeah, I like it, when the sun is high like that.”

Mark turns to look at heachan. The latter is bathing under a single ray, that spill on his head and turn his eyelashes transparent and shining, and the hair falling on his forehead emit a kind of peculiar radiation, golden blond, almost taking fire.

“It gets me into a good mood.”

It it wasn’t for the perfect curve of his nose and his pouty lips moving against the light, emanating life, Mark would have laughed sooner, because, If something is in good mood today, it’s the sun, and mostly because of Haechan.

“What, are you mocking me?” Haechan does that thing with his mouth when he’s upset and at the same time confused, a nervous smile on.

Mark ignores hi and take out a small water bottle from his pocket. “Lets share this too, “ with a swift turn of his fingers around it, the bottle is open, “I know you are thirsty”

Haechan start clinging onto him, telling him he’s thirsty for a kiss now and thanking him for always taking care of him, then trying to kiss him as a thanks. When his annoying attempt fails, he proceed change his method and demands “please tell me you love me!” dragging each words, successfully picking on Mark’s patience.

Once he start, it’s a never ending session.

Mark’s has two solution to stop Haechan. The first is to start eating the desert waiting for them between them both. The second one is to embarrass Haechan.

“You know, you know,” repeats two time, each time calming down further the younger until he stops clinging to him, sensing the serious color of his voice.

“About my assignment, who told you to copy it?” He watches as a frown grows on haechans forehead

His eyes flicker to everywhere but Mark’s.“What is this about? I thought you were okay with it.”

“No I wasn’t, I was sleeping when you copied it?”

“Why are you like this, really, after making you breakfast I have that right don’t I?”  
He senses haechan getting upset.

“So this is why you made my breakfast today?”

Haechan mumble, clearly upset. something about not touching his homework ever again. Mark watches his friend getting upset, under that glorious sun, and as the wind rythmed the curtain into a dance, it made the sun shade on his skin dance along, too. It made things look as if they were on a boat, slowly moving along waters.

“I’m joking I’m joking, your face is just amazing do you know that?”

“What, What is this about now? Why are you teasing me about my looks now?” He knows the other one is confused but pleased at the same time, a slightly smile covering his mouth.

“Yes it’s funny. The way is just changes with your mood.” at this point mark doesn’t know if he’s talking about haechans face or the weather. He inches closer and closer, hearing a mumble from haechan about how of course it was.

“What’s up with you, Continue like that and I’m getting upset.” He says as he wants already, he pushes his shoulder one time. His eyes goes up and down between Marks eyes and somewhere on his chin, maybe a trace of the previous meal. Mark didn’t care he was preoccupied with teasing his friend. He almost hear himself maniacally laughing in his head, and that awfully felt like Haechan. He inches closer.

“Maybe I’m really not that innocent, maybe I really did try to kiss you last night.” He says putting a hand at Haechan’s a left side, now fully trapping him. The other stutters, falling his elbows back so his back doesn’t lay on the table. Now it’s Haechan that’s flustered about their proximity.

“Was I that beautiful?” He nervously tries to regain his composure, playing it cool but mark knows he feels awkward, he wants to continue teasing him. He was about to say something along the lines of ‘the universe knows three thing: that everything is composed of atoms, that earth is round and that My best friend is ugly’, but his decision took a u turn when the other licks his lips. So close.

He just blurts out: “When the sun is like that you look like a painting.” Under the sun. ephemeral yet still. Unbelievably beautiful yet close and real.

A bird flies over the window, and for a second, mark thought he blinked but it was just its shadow passing through the room, a dark second running over them. Right after that, Haechan’s skin is ever brighter, and his cheeks are even more brighter.

Haechan blinks quickly, maybe a little to rapidly. His ears are red and it’s not the sun that’s making it like that. Mark lets a breathy laugh run through the air, if he knew it was so easy to fluster his otherwise confident and witty friend. when suddenly he is pushed forward with his necktie, and haechans voice is whispering yet loudly vibrating against his ear, sending shivers down his spine and back up.

“I’m going to kick you hard, and send you back to Canada”

Pushed against the table, he kicks haechan back who falls off slowly, gasping ridiculously, making them both laugh at themselves, melody ringing in this empty but not lonely classroom. It’s only when Mark almost sit on their long forgotten treat, the initial treasure they hunted each other for, that they realise it’s squished miserably in its package, the chocolate oozing out of it like a horrible crime scene or deadly car accident view. An innocent victim of their fight.

They both look at each other. Shrug their shoulder at the same time and settle down to eat their delicious treat

Squished or not, it’s still desert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked it, please check out my other my mh work [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15227706).


	4. 4/4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if the quality/style doesnt match with the rest, i just wanted to publish all the chapters before merging them all!check out my other work [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15227706)!

This time they’re at Haechan’s, because he needed some help understanding biology. Even if they're one year apart, Mark still remembers last year’s lesson correctly, and agreed upon the plead. It has become harder to see each other as summer get closer, creepinga shadow up over Mark’s schedule and free time.

The thing is, while Mark has made himself comfortable with mere, simple sweatpants and a loose t shirt, Haechan hurried himself into some shorts, exposing his honey coloured thighs to the sun, lightly peeking through his room’s window even though it was covered with a thin curtain.

When Mark is done explaining, trying hard to stop his eyes from shooting downwards, he looks into Haechan’s eyes only to see them staring at him down almost arrogant. And making him stutter a little, maybe.

“So-uh, is this part clear for you now?” He says, eyes glancing at his left thigh, because he may not be able to bear the other’s churning stare, and that’s where his eyes land automatically. But he looks back up before his own body can react, before he blushes.

A smile tugs his lip’s corner up, twisting in mischief, as he takes a high pitched voice to act the sentence out : “Dear diary, i think i like girls with short hair and a name that starts with an m, just like me.”

When the realisation hits him, the realisation that his devilish best friend is quoting his diary, he chokes on air. He never knew it was possible, but he just did.

“God, When did you read that?” He says as he menacingly tugs at his friend’s sweater, the other flinching and sending some hair off his forehead, “how much did you read”, he says as his mind process how did someone like haechan find his (full of embarrassing entries) pre teen diary, when he had it hidden away from him, especially.

“12 years old Mark is so cute, having a crush and not telling me” he sing songs, this annoying smile never leaving and already starting to haunt him.

Mark feels his ear burning even hotter than his face, covered by his face “So you read it all…”

Haechan coos at his red ears, “now here, i can see the shy and small Mark that wrote that embarrassing journal”continues to tease,

Mark can imagine his proud and witty face just from his voice. “Am i getting punished 7 years after for not telling you?”

“Yes, and you had 6 years to tell me about that crush” he smiles, never stopping and Mark doesn't have the energy to pull anything,whether it be a tickle fight or a tease back, to stop him.

“When did you read it anyway,” he gets closer to Haechan without any bad attention, because again, he doesn’t have any energy, but the other shift back, suspicious and a nervous smile plastered on his face. Hands protecting his face in case the older felt like throwing punches.

“The other day when… I stayed over.” pausing in between, shifting closer towards the end of the bed and Mark sense an escape. Then it comes to him. Mark knows too well about Haechan’s blackmailing tendencies.

“Please,” they both stop, looking at each others eyes. Mark’s are pleading, and Haechans are blank, round, “don’t tell me you took pictures.” 

They both look at each other, and before heachan can jump out of the bed and run to lock himself in the bathroom, Mark harshly tugs his collar, sending him back across the soft covers with a thump, and pinches the thin and fragile skin of his upper thigh, hard.

“You’re so gonna die, Haechan”, he exclaims in what he hopes is a threat, but is muffled by the victim’s loud cry, an embarrassing whine between ‘my thighs’ and ‘hyung’

Mark doesnt feel bad even when it’s been a while haechan’s been urgently caressing his wound as if it would heal like that “I take it back, I would never want to be such a horrible person,” he whines, accusing, “you’re horrible, horrible, so mean”

Looking at the purplish bruise he made, marks shrugs, “that is your punition”, says proudly

“You can’t punish someone for punishing you!”

They start arguing about the pictures, mark wants to delete them, haechan keeps on being stubborn. Until Haechan sigh, settling down against the bed head.

“You should have been like me no one can blackmail me, because I never had a crush” 

This picked Mark’s curiosity. They never talked about those things. “You never?” He tries, looking at the dusty weather outside. It’s midday, but the clouds a slightly crying.

“I can't remember feeling anything stronger than admiration”

He shifts, sitting against a cushion with one pushed against his chest. The left leg of his shorts is lifted up, and mark discovers a mole he never saw before.

“And it’s even harder to imagine.” low and calm voice. It’s not small, but a proof of maybe a lot of thoughts running through the otherwise happy, witty boy, “it’s hard to conceive that i’ll ever get along with someone better than i do with you.” Mark turns, the other one’s eyes cast down, as if he’s ashamed.

“I know i’m complicated to understand, and even if we’re opposite, you’re the only person that understand me so well at this point.”

It’s true. They never fitted together. Younger and older, Calmer and whittier. Even where they met some similarities, they opposed. While Mark liked to laugh at ridiculous things and was a little extraterrestrial, Haechan liked to make fun and had a more expensed humour.

“And it make me feel lonely, because i’m scared once our way differ, I’ll lose you, and end up alone.” Haechan finishes off by biting his lower lips, they’re chapped, the light unevenly splayed over them.

Mark pulls him into a hug.

He tries to smiles against the other’s cheek. “Haechan has felt this way and did not bother to tell me?” and the other laugh a contraried melody, before sitting his forehead on his shoulder. Their legs intervene in an odd manner, and Mark tries to ignore how haechan’s bare skin feels against his clothed upper thigh.  
.  
“Sorry for the rant but i wish to be someone’s first choice for once” his voice resonate in the space between their chest.

Mark can’t say anything.

Except for, “That’s not true,”

Because it wasn’t. Just like when he looked at the sun too long, haechan was always lingering under his pupils when he closed his eyes. Just like that, mark couldn’t stop thinking about him. How he made his morning bearable, how he wished he could postpone an evening or stop a clock to spend more time with him, how he wished he could touch him when he wanted, wherever he wanted, and how he wished he could exhale just a bit of his warmth into himself. How Haechan made up more than half his day and everyday, an every memory is painted bright with him. 

Where his rationality sets the limit of friendship, his eyes, nose lips, cheek, every bit of him is an astral analogy. And it takes up all of his mind. He doesn’t know if it’s enough to say that, but that’s all he could blurt out of his cloudy mind as he took his face between his hand and lifted it too intervene their eyes.

 

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” He says, almost a whisper and maybe a little breathy, made heavier by the darkness surrounding them, as if the cloud had come inside the room, hiding them from the sun.

With a swit slide of his thumb, he tumbles away a brown lock fogging the younger’s eyes.

Haechan just stares at him, with a hint of shock. And as close as they are, Mark realise that this time, how haechan eyes shift down from his eyes, they definitely slide to stare at his lips.

Mark doesn’t know where his courage went, all he manages to do is to pull down his hand from Haechan’s shoulder to his arm’s length, and caress his tights, next to the fresh bruise. His other hand tilts the younger’s face closer, in the same pace as his own, and they parallelly come closer, the cloudy weather outside diving them further into darkness, oddly making it easier for him to take these courageous steps.

But that’s all the courage he had, his heart can’t take more, and his mind can’t stop calculating the distance between their lips again and again, dangerously decreasing, so he lifts his head, and in a last millisecond decision, his lips land on the others cheek.

It’s without doubt, probably not better than his lips. But it feels warm, and full of energy. 

Animated with a new feeling, something he never felt before, all he can see is gold, tilt his head to sneak down on the line of his jaw, meeting the skin with his lips again, again, periodically.

So drunk on the somber atmosphere surrounding them, he doesn’t realise Haechan’s hand clutching his shirt, and the other one creeping up to feel his hair by the back of his neck.

But he feel the shaky breath Haechan lets out by his ear, and he blames it for making him latch onto the length of his tan neck, and every time he meets the skin, he gets drunk in light further and further. His mind turning, and turning, fast.

Heart burning in his chest, he feels the other clutch his hair when he pause to lick his own lips, refueling them. The sound of their breath intervened is like a cloud clogging his brain, and as he wet the other’s neck, Haechan slowly closes his eyelid again and angle his head backward, and mark loses his breath, again, over all this expense of golden skin. It’s shining in this darkness.

In this private, personal room, alone and out from any other eyes than each other’s, void of any light than their flicking infatuation, it’s easier to lose yourself in desire, and lose your sense of logic and limitations.

He can’t get enough of how it feels against his lips, now his tongue, and eagerly and dangerously licks the soft skin before catching it with his teeth.

Haechan inhaled something between words and breaths, a mumble full of satisfaction.

They’re both at loss for words, and all their heavy breaths are communicating is infatuation.

It started with him losing his courage and deviating his landing, but now he finds himself in an infinite orbit around the shining boy, and he feels like he’ll come crashing down any minute.

They only realise how dark it had become when the light switch suddenly expose them, bolt away from each other as if possessed by the darkness before a deep voice creeps in,

“Did someone scream?” it’s familiar, Haechan’s brother, Johnny. They glare at the door, slightly open to a hand standing on the light switch, horrified. He didn't bother coming in, only creeping his hand on the switch through the slight opening of the door.

“Huh?”

“I thought I heard someone crying. Like, five minute ago.”

Mark doesnt find the words to argue that whoever cried in help would have been dead by now. And he doesn't find himself the courage to look at Haechan, who is emanating warm probably by blushing, it’s too much, being exposed in this light, as if they were doing something… They weren’t supposed to?

Hearing the silence, Haechan’s brother open the door enough to come in, but shift back as soon as he sees the boys on the bed, Barely one feet part, but both burning in shame. And their breathing a little too obvious.

“Oh.” He says, eyes landing on the bruise on haechan’s thighs. The two culprit do the same, dropping their heads towards it.

Oh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come at me on twitter, I draw sometimes! [@xiaohu201](https://twitter.com/xiaohu201) ! And this settles my first ever NCT fic! Thanks for reading, it means a lot <3

**Author's Note:**

> I said i was never gonna write shippy things but the Markhyuck got me… scary
> 
> If there are errors, please point them out! And if you liked, a comment or even just a kudo is very apreciated, it's my first time posting online!! Really!!


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